Frozen Fields and Other Such Fun
by TheBattyWhiteCrow
Summary: Noic, the daughter of Loki, finds herself to be stolen away from her family after Loki's defeat, and into a world of servitude and beatings. If anyone thought the mischief would end upon Loki's banishment and unending torment- They're about to learn a very, VERY vengeful lesson.
1. Introduction

Noic woke in the Servant's Quarters of Asgard's Palace- which was incredibly concerning, as she'd gone to sleep in her own bed in _Vanaheim_.

"It's about time you woke up- It's long past dawn." A sharp, stern looking woman's shadow loomed over head as Noic rubbed at her drowsy eyes with a hand. Finding the movement to summon a drawn wince as the soreness of her muscles complained to the just as sharp and stern bedding she _apparently_ spent the night on. "You'll wake at dawn from now onwards, am I clear?" The shadow above continued.

Noic growled tiredly, throwing a hand over her eyes to shield her drowsy gaze from the bright lights above.

 _Nope- I'm going back. Goodnight._

The woman sighed tiredly, "Oh, this is going to be a fight _all day,_ _ **every day**_ , isn't it?"

.

As it turned out, the stern woman was named Ragneid- It was a coarse name that belonged on a man, in Noic's opinion. Which suited the abrasive woman _just fine_. Noic, as well as a number of others, was Ragneid's charge- She wasn't the oldest, the youngest, the strongest nor the weakest; Not by a long shot. In truth, over the week Noic settled unimportantly in the background. Or rather, she did, before her form shifting pendant was taken (For a prank she decidedly did _not_ do) and Noic quickly found herself to be the center of _every_ distrustful look and displeased conversation.

Aside from the newfound attention, Noic found her more _colorful_ form to be one with a thousand burdens.

For instance- Working beneath the sun was no longer an option. After a simple two hours, Noic found herself falling face first into the fields she was to help tend.

A number of things froze beneath her touch, including other's _skin_.

Upon enterance to any room, Noic's presence _drastically_ lowered the temperature to a brisk, teeth chattering degree (Though that one she quite enjoyed).

The list went on,

and on,

AND ON.

..

Over the next week Noic developed a thousand little tricks for her temperature, one of which being that of a nocturnal nature. She rose at midnight when the air was chilled and cooled to the breath to complet her various tasks for the day before the sun rose. Choosing to laze about for the rest of the day before the sun turned too hot for her taste and she retired for evening to repeat it all again the next day.

There were more than a few servants under Ragneid's care that failed to care on the matter that she _rose_ much before them, and instead took great offense that she was perpetually finished with her tasks before they had.

"You're finished already, _again?_ " Skorri cut sharply, crossing his arms sourly over his tunic in frustration to find the Frost Giant his age to be tearing into a burnt roll with freezing fingertips while he held a lumber axe over his shoulder, "How do you finish so fast? You must be skipping tasks!"

"Mmm.. No." Noic croaked back dismissively as she tossed the hard won swatch of charred roll into her mouth with a scorched crunch.

 _I don't particularly enjoy_ _ **laundry**_ _, but it's not worth a lashing._

"Then what's your trick? What's your tactic?" Skorri edged eagerly, rolling the axe across his shoulders in eager impatience for the piece of enlightening wisdom Noic would no doubt share.

".. I'm efficient." Noic imparted before offering a thin lipped smile, offering the other half of the bread roll to the boy across the hall happily.

Skorri groaned with exasperation, trudging forward sourly to take the roll in his exhausted hand in passing before exiting the bustling Servant's Quarters to chop the lumber outside. "We still on for trading your laundry duty for my cooking for next week?"

 _As sure as nobles sweat,_ Noic thought sharply, offering a thumbs up in approval with a smile.

...


	2. Drowning Toys and Possibly Skorri

Ragneid, in the hopes of raising the sulking moral that had settled into her charges, placed in each of their care a single toy. Noic found hers to be a particular interest, the object being a flattened and carved toy boat with little pegged figures sticking from the base. She found the figures of a certain fascination, obviously they stood to be a happy little family, the pleasant wife, the hammer bearing husband and the shorter, far less intimidating son holding a _shield_.

The idea of the perfect, smiling family salted her still open wounds and brought a sore wince to her lips to the simple thought the sight summoned; _When was the last time she had a_ _ **hug**_?

She still played with the thing, of course.

 _"We've been out at sea too long, and now we men stink." The father informed his son shortly with a sagely bob of the entire body, "Also, me wife has jumped overboard because the fish under the waves smell better than me man-mane."_

 _And with that, the mother figure flung herself into the 'sea' far below._

 _"Ah," The father lamented, craning his wooden body skyward in wooden prose, "What will I hump_ _ **now?**_ _"_

 _And with that charming thought from his forebearer, the son promptly abandoned ship as well._

"Noic!" Skorri scolded sharply, "You shouldn't drop them from such a height- You'll break your toy the same day you got it!" Skorri turned his own stitched leather ball in his grasp, tossing the object skyward in good nature, only to find the bouncy toy to strike the nearest wall and return abruptly to strike him flat into his face.

 _Hard_.

Skorri fell backwards, completely striken to sleep.

Noic _guffawed_.

.

Laundry was Noic's most despised chore, not because her hands froze bubbling ice cubes into the river.. Not because her hanging clothes took the longest to dry, as they had to partially _defrost_.. Not because she found the task _demeaning_..

Oh no, she detested the task because it involved delivering the cleaned, dried and folded clothes to The Handmaidens in the back of the Palace- Which raised the terrifying possibility of running across a noble **exponentially**.

Nobles, Noic found, were shockingly like _bees_.

If you stood still, kept your eyes down and didn't make any sudden movements, they passed you by.

Otherwise, _damn did they have a_ _ **sting**_!

".. Don't know what's worse," Noic growled as Skorri fell into pace along side her, holding his own basket of freshly folded clothings on his hip with a quickly waning balance, "Being ignored, or joked about." Noic scowled sourly to the departing giggling nobles.

"What's the pun this time?" Skorri raised his brows in interest.

"They asked if I was _horny_.." _Why, oh WHY did my father decide his formal helmetware needs to resemble that of a goat's great grandfather?_ Noic lamented miserably, kicking at the dirt sheepishly as a fluster of red boiled over her teased features.

"..." A big grin stretched across Skorri's features slowly. "Are you, though?"

Noic clocked him shortly in the face, sending the long haired boy tumbling down the walkway in a tangle of protesting limbs and now decidedly unfolded clothes.

" **NOIC LOKISDOTTIR!** " Ragneid's voice cracked like a whip from across the walkway, anger boiling in her gaze as The Handmaidens giggled just behind her stern form, "You'll have nothing but laundry duty for the next week!"

Noic dropped her basket to the ground with a frustrated slam, her features glowing a steaming red to the giggling at her expense and the unfair treatment for a perfectly earned strike.

..

Skorri and Noic had a peculiar tradition, when one stayed too late into the night, rather than incite the fury of Ragneid for sleeping past the designated time, the alert one of the pair 'woke' the other.

The methods ranged from _sweet_ to downright _cruel_.

One morning, for instance, while channeling his inner _woman_ , Skorri imagined it to be a wise idea to wake up Noic with a kiss. And promptly found his lips to freeze firmly against her forehead upon immediate contact. _It was an awkward awakening_.

".. Morning' sunshine!" Noic smiled brightly, gripping the slack of Skorri's rustled tunic as she lifted the child from his bed, sliding him through the open doorway and across the length of a particularly long, finely crafted ice slide.

Ragneid staggered back from the sight of a scrambling, shouting child under her charge sliding across the grounds of the Servant Quarters.

"Noic Lokisdottir!" Ragneid snapped furiously.

Noic promptly slid on the heels of her feet down her ice-made slide, a wild, delighted smile decorating her features as she dramatically exited the shared quarters with an iced flourish.

...


	3. Against the Guards

Across the Servant Grounds rested a particularly long pond, it was, in every sense, more of a fountain than a pond. The rim was decorated with polished stones, ornate statues and rare flowers; It wasn't a particularly welcoming sight, at least, not to Noic. She found the entire thing an enormous offense.

There it stood, a massive monument to adorning nature itself..

And Noic couldn't get a _blanket_.

 _Clank, clank, clank.._

The sound of the guard's footsteps across the pond rattled the peace of nature with a cacaphony of hardened metal rattling against itself noisily. There weren't guards in the Servant's Quarters, no where near it in fact and for the longest time Noic didn't see a _single_ one.

At first she found them fascinating..

And abruptly realized her mistake.

 _Clank, clank, clank.._

"I bet I can skip this further than you," Skorri challenged, lifting a polished, flat stone to Noic's red gaze with a coy smile playing across his elven features, "I've been practicing for some time, so don't feel too terrible _when_ you lose."

" _Some time?_ " Noic furrowed her brow in bafflement, ".. You've been here long?"

"My kind, The Dark Elves, we age differently than you and the Asgardians." Skorri balanced the stone in his grip loosely, "I've been here longer than Ragneid has. _By a lot_."

 _Clank, clank, clank.._

"How old _are_ you?" Noic wrinkled her nose shortly, striken by the sudden news of Skorri's apparent agelessness.

"I've lost track." Skorri dismissed boredly, tossing his stone to skim over the stilled pond five times before sinking beneath the rippling waves with a gulp of moving water. "You'll forget too," Skorri predicted sideways, "It always happens, takes a year, maybe two at the most." Skorri diagnosed with an experianced shrug. "You stop being treated as a person for a long time; You stop being one."

Noic curled her lips back in challenge as she lifted her own smooth stone from the ground, bringing the rounded rock to her lips to breathe a long, icy exhale across the surface. Hard ice settled across the stone with a cracking call as Noic lifted her red eyes, determination set hard against her gaze. "I am _Noic_." She informed confidently before sending the stone to skip endlessly across the pond without the slightest interest of stopping.

 _Clank, clank- THUNK_

The soldier pacing on the other edge of the long pond fell bluntly face first into the ground as the frosted stone took to striking the back of his helmet with such an amazing force, the golden metal bent beneath its icy form.

Skorri and Noic gaped, each completely and utterly dumbstruck by the act for a long moment before it occurred to either of them to _run_ before the man awoke.

And oh, _run they did_.

.

Noic being decidedly nocturnal, and Skorri being decidedly, well, _turnal_. It was often only in passing that the two spoke, just before the hours of when she went for work, and he laid for rest. Often Noic found herself tempted into lingering into his waking hours longer than she should for her own sake.

As she had just the morning before.

Groggily Noic staggered to the fields outside the Servant's Quarters. Though the night above was crisp and chilled to her favorite degree, her eyes were dark and drifting tiredly as she stretched her perpetually sore arms in a half awake attempt to rouse the senses. Picking _vegetables_ certainly wasn't going to do it.

Yawning tiredly all through her task, Noic occupied her slow moving mind with a thousand strings of thought in the hopes to keep her body from falling to the side in sheer, tired exhaustion and abruptly freeze the fields solid a month before winter was to strike.

She considered the concept of the nobles for a good hour, they were ungrateful, in her opinion. They were like a wailing babe, she finally concluded, they needed _endless_ attention and only noticed when things did _not_ go their way. Oh, yes. That was the perfect comparison. Noic smiled beneath her breath, working the dirt with a softly laughing vigor, how like a babe to take for granted a thousand feedings and wail the moment the next one was _delayed_.

When that topic grew less exciting in mockery, Noic pondered the night sky above- It was dark, inky and _delightful_ in every chilled aspect of its beauty. Oh, she couldn't understand how most spent this time _asleep_ , of all things.

The thought of sleep having an opposite effect than desired, Noic quickly shifted her mind's interests as another yawn stretched across her features.

Noic instead settled on the concerning issue that had lingered ever since Skorri's dramatic word on the subject- How long had she _been_ in her current predicament?

It had been the start of fall season in Vanaheim- That much she knew. Noic could recall the painted leaves above, the crisp smell to the air and the laughter that inevitably emitted from the crafting of leaf fortresses. Ah, Noic lamented with a drawn sigh, she'd been _carefree_ then. COuldn't be minded to track the days of her youth, even.

Now?

Now Noic was trying to recollect just how much time she'd _lost_.

Dusting off her dirt clad hands on her messy tunic, Noic rose to appreciate her work from a higher angle, though her sore knees protested the shift with every groaning fibre. Noic's portion of the field was picked clean, every crop harvested and replanted with a growingly experianced hand. The frost Noic's fingertips left behind on the plucked vegetables held the freshness of the crop until morning when the others would awake to deliver them to the Head of The Kitchen. There was never an issue in all the times she'd finished the task before- But this time, this time the stationed guard across the field left his post to address her as she moved to exit the grounds.

"You there, hold a moment." The guard snapped sharply.

 _You there?_ Noic wrinkled her nose, _I'm the only person in a mile_ _ **awake**_ _. Who else could you_ _ **possibly**_ _be talking to?_

"You do speak, don't you?" The guard smiled charmingly as he settled just a _little_ too close for Noic's taste. Noic's brow settled in a confused pinch disbelievingly, _He did feel the_ _ **cold**_ _emitting from her skin,_ _ **right?**_ Noic promptly skipped back a pace to reclaim her desired space.

"I do, when necessary." Noic cut back in disinterest, her flat expression making no secret she found this particular conversation to be _unnecessary_.

"I don't imagine you speak much, in your line of work, then. Don't really need to have an opinion to pick onions." The guard laughed boisterously to his own joke.

Noic moved to walk past him, entirely unamused by his flat humor; Because, after all, if someone had to laugh at their own joke- It shouldn't have been spawned in the first place.

"Woah, hey!" The guard stepped back into her path- Again. And again, stood irritatingly much too close.

"What do you want?" Noic cut back bluntly upwards as she reclaimed another pace back eagerly.

"Shouldn't you be treating me with a little more _respect?_ " The man prompted sharply, his eyes gleaming with contained amusement despite his sharp tone as he stalked forward a pace, settling once more into Noic's space.

"What do you want? _Sir_?" Noic's sarcasm cracked like dry twigs as she directed a dark glare upwards to the continued invasion of her space.

"Well, now that you ask," The guard knelt to the ground, levelling his calculating gaze to Noic's suspicious one, "I want a kiss from you."

Noic raised both eyebrows, her blue features gaping for a long moment before flushing a raging red shade, "Go kiss someone your age." She demanded shortly, moving around the lecherous man.

The guard gripped the back of Noic's tunic, bluntly pulling her back before himself with a charming sort of smile. "Oh, it's nothing like that- Just an innocent kiss!"

"Not interested." Noic cut back, shoving his hand from her tunic forcefully.

"Your opinion doesn't count for much, onion picker." The man dismissed shortly, "I don't see the need for such dramatics, anyway. You must be getting this quite often, no one can resist a Juton."

"Everyone else can." Noic retorted bluntly, moving around the guard once again.

And once again, got pulled back by the back of the tunic with such a stern force, she fell tumbling backwards.

"I don't suggest that." Noic warned with a boiling rage overtaking her small form.

"Are you threatening me, onion picker?" The guard grinned crookedly, "I wouldn't suggest _that_."

And with that, Noic lost her temper completely. "You want to act like a rutting dog in heat? _Fine_ , I'll treat you like one." Noic barked furiously with bristling, boiling rage.

With a loud crack of ice, Noic slammed her bare heel onto the boot of the guard with such a hard slam, sending the man to stand tall abruptly with a shout of pain. With the man now standing stiff, Noic found her next target to be as exposed as ever- And promptly cracked her fist against the man's most tender organ.

He collapsed forward with a hard, breathless cry, clutching his freshly struck _man bits_.

Noic gripped the guard's helm, hauling the man to fall hard upon the ground on his back, and promptly stomped her bare heel on his throat with a sharp and cruel _crack_ that she didn't relieve by lifting the obstruction from the man's breath.

" _BAD. DOG._ " Noic leaned down, scolding furiously as the tender skin beneath her heel blistered and decayed from the prolonged exposure to The Frost Giant's temperature.

..


End file.
